When Hugh returned to the sail-shed it was to hear the astonishing news that Ivor Parry was about to break off his connection with the sail-making, and to enter upon the less arduous duties of a miller's life.
"Well, indeed," said Hugh, with forced cheerfulness, "this will be a day to be remembered by the gossips, for I, too, have a piece of news to give you." And raising his voice a little, so that everyone in the shed could hear him, he continued, "I meant to have called a meeting this evening to let you know that I am thinking to give up my business; but as Ivor Parry has already fired the pistol, I need not be afraid to let off the gun! Joshua Howels and I have had many talks on the subject, and I have now made up my mind to give up the sail-shed to him. I have made enough money to keep my wife and myself in comfort as long as we two live, and therefore I will not stand in the way of another man's doing the same thing. Now, I want you not to make any remarks about this to me to-night. You know I am one of those foolish creatures who cannot spend the greater part of every day under the same roof with other people without letting them into his heart, and I don't want you to think little of me at the last. So, anwl frindiau,[[6]] let us go on quietly, until some evening I slip out silently after work, and Joshua Howels comes in next morning instead of me. We need not say good-bye, as I am not going away from Mwntseison, and I have no doubt that, whenever I have an hour to spare, my feet will turn naturally towards the old sail-shed, so that we shall meet often; only, I will not be the Mishteer any longer."
Here his voice was drowned by an uproar of voices, and cries of "Mishteer! Mishteer!" filled the air.
"There has never been another Mishteer in Mwntseison," cried somebody in the crowd, "and there can never be another!"
The warm Welsh hearts of his work-people were touched to the quick by his evident emotion at parting with them. When they saw him reach down his straw hat, and turn towards the little office opening out of the shed, and they realised the meaning of the speech, a hush fell upon them more eloquent than words.
The Mishteer was unstrung. He was sorrowing at parting with them. There was a moisture in his eyes, the tears were not far off—and all for them; and as they dropped their voices, and passed silently out through the big doors, Hugh Morgan had never been so completely master of their hearts.
Of course, next day Mwntseison was moved from hearth to roof—from the Methodist chapel on the cliffs to the little church on the top of the hill. Over the whole neighbourhood the news was spread abroad, and amongst others, Nell Jones and Sara Pentraeth had met early to exchange ideas. Their washing had been hurried over in a very perfunctory manner, in the desire to reach the "hanging-out" stage of the proceedings; and as good luck would have it, just as Nell began to spread out her heavy Welsh flannels, Sara came out too with her basket, and they were soon engaged in deep conversation over the low hedge of blackened broom bushes which divided their sandy gardens.
"Nell fâch, didst ever hear of such a thing? There's news! there's an odd thing! that the Mishteer should change his mind like that—and all of a sudden, too! And, Nell anwl, to be handed over to Josh Howels like a bowl of cawl! Ach y fi!"
"Will he pay us as well? that's the thing!" said Nell; "for I've heard tell he's a man who wants the penny and the pen'orth!"
"Perhaps indeed! shouldn't wonder; he is nearly related to his father, and we all know what he was! But there's one good thing, we sha'n't have to call Gwladys 'Mishtress' any more—Mishtress indeed! with her airs and her pride. Ach y fi! shoes, if you please, instead of clocs!" and, with another expressive "ach y fi," she flung a garment over the hedge so roughly as to tear it, thus adding to her own irritation. "Madam's pride will come down now, Nell fâch; for two women, whose grandfathers and great-grandfathers have lived at Mwntseison, to have to say Mishtress to Nani Price's daughter is very hard; for who was Nani Price's father, I should like to know?"